


Anything for You

by DarthSuki



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Desperation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: There’s a sublime pleasure in seeing Kevin on his knees.





	Anything for You

There’s a sublime pleasure in seeing Kevin on his knees. Empowering, even. It’s not a feeling you’re very familiar with--power is a rare thing to feel when you’re constantly oppressed beneath the weight of so many people above you, so to have it in your hands or, rather, kneeling at your feet, it leaves you a little breathless and off-guard. Enough that you can’t help but fidget just the tiniest bit in the chair you sit in.

The vision of him is not without it’s effort of course--Kevin isn’t a man to submit very easily, you’ve never seen him relent to anyone before, be it in the workplace or elsewhere (though, on second thought, everywhere can be considered a workplace within StrexCorp). He’s a force of nature, an enigma, someone who you know can rip apart some of the fiercest businessmen into tiny, bloody pieces if crossed hard enough.

You have earned his submission.

So you see him, kneeling before you, looking up with those dark, empty eyes of his. You see his face, the soft marks of kiss-shaped bruises scattered across his shoulders and down his chest. You see the way he shakes, gently, almost imperceivable to someone who isn’t looking hard enough at him.

But most importantly, your eyes see the collar around his neck.

 It’s black, an odd sort of color when the rest of his wardrobe is normally bright oranges and yellows, garish colors that only mimic the same grotesque and fake joy that fills StrexCorp to bursting. It’s a fitting accessory, the material tight around his neck but not choking--just enough pressure so that he can feel it, the weight and texture as it rubs against his skin.

“Have you been a good boy?” You ask, thoughts coming full circle and back to the present moment. “Do you deserve a reward tonight, pet?”

Pet. It feels nice on your tongue, nice to look down at the man who others look at with fear. It feels nice to see him shiver at the term, his body edging closer to your legs, as if he’s barely holding back on the need to lean against you, to press himself to your warmth.

Kevin’s lips press into a tight line as he thinks about your questions. There’s obviously a tension in those thoughts--you can see his jaw tighten and his head tilt, ever so slightly to one side. He doesn’t need visible eyes for you to read him easily enough.

Deciding you don’t have the patience to play word games, you sigh gently and reach a hand out to pull your fingers gently through the man’s hair. 

“You can speak openly.”

Kevin perks a little at the permission, his lips instantly pulling into a sweet, though haughty smile.

“I was so productive today, dearest,” Kevin’s words sound smooth and sweet. “I met and exceeded every one of my quotas and even managed to-”

The fingers in his hair suddenly find a grip in those soft strands and pull his head back, the gesture silencing any words that were hanging behind his lips. And, if that wouldn’t have adequately stopped him from speaking, your narrowed eyes and hard expression certainly would have.

“I don’t want to know what you did for  _them_ ,” You say carefully, emphasizing the unspoken term--you know that they’re listening, always. “Who is the one who’s going to reward you? Who makes you feel  _so_  good, pet?”

Kevin shudders against your fingertips, a moan threatening to spill from his mouth as he whispers a quick answer.

“You, dearest.”

Though a smile threatens to break through the mask of aggravation (he always calls you by the pet name, regardless of who is calling the shots), you manage to keep a tight hold on Kevin’s hair, pulling his head back just a little bit to regain the intimidation of the moment.

“That’s right,” you loosen your fingers after a breath. “I’m the one who’ll make you feel good--I’ll always be the one, Kevin. So what did you do to deserve a reward from  _me?”_

You release his hair and lean back into the chair. It’s amusing to watch him struggle for an answer, so genuinely at a loss for words. Kevin is almost never at a loss for something to say.

He must figure something out quick enough, as Kevin looks back up at you, expression so enigmatically shy that you’re not sure if it’s real or faked.

“I came home early for you,” the man finally says, a whisper, toying with the tone of his voice that he  _almost_  sounds as vulnerable as he looks. “Aaaand I haven’t touched myself in  _days_ , dearest. Just like you asked of me.”

Kevin allows for a moment of silence to pass, to let the words settle in the air. Then he opens his lips, shifts his eyes.

“I even wore the collar all day today.” 

He pauses.

“....Even in the meeting with station management. I think everyone  _loved_  my new accessory.”

Whether it’s the tone, the words or even the almost-genuine look of openness on Kevin’s face, you feel your heart speed up just a touch. You’re rather proud that the mask doesn’t break over your face, and instead you find yourself smirking and making a gesture with your hand to encourage Kevin up and onto your lap.

“C’mere,” you say, starting to sound as breathless as you feel. “Get up here.”

Kevin obliges you without hesitation. Despite being on his knees, he smoothly climbs atop your lap, sitting astride your legs without an ounce of shame in the fact that his body is entirely naked. If anything he looks proud of the fact, biting his lower lip and feigning a look of innocence as your eyes gaze down his form.

Covered in hickies, some new and others old, and his cock stiff and on display, aching to be touched.

“I think I deserve a reward, dearest,” Kevin whispers, one hand brought to his lips only to complete the visage of vulnerability. “Won’t you touch me?  _Please?_ ”

Even when letting himself act submissively, Kevin is still as needy as ever, happy to push boundaries and limits until you have to drag him back. Perhaps that’s something he enjoys in itself, if only to feel your hand on him, feel your power flare up in the only moments you can truly let it, outside of the world of StrexCorp and ranking and oppression that suffocates everyone who so much as touches the company.

You gaze at Kevin for a few more moments without a reply, happy to let the man sit and falter a little in his self-confidence. It’s only when you see it, the slightest crack in his boasting that you finally decide to reach one arm around his waist and tug the man close. You pull him against you and press your lips against his throat, suck against already-aching marks on his skin.

All he can do is whimper; It’s a delicious sound to your ears.

You kiss his throat again, harder, sucking a fresh bruise over an old one--a mark that he can never truly hide, just beneath where the collar sits over his throat.

“Deareeeest,” Kevin moans, hips shifting enough that you feel the needy press of his cock against your stomach seeking any sort of friction.

A moment passes before you lift your face from Kevin’s throat, enough so that you can speak with hot breath over his bare skin.

“Such a needy boy. I’ve only undressed and kissed you and you’re already hard?”

“ _Yessss._ ”

You smile, laughing a little against your lover’s collarbone. There’s no guilt or shame to be heard in his plea, his soft moans or his rutting hips--perhaps that’s the cutest thing of all in Kevin as a submissive, his constant energy and willingness to push your hand to be firm on him, when you want it to be.

“So desperate,” you find your other hand reaching between the two of you, fingers wrapping around the length of his dick with just enough pressure to make Kevin freeze. “And a desperate boy like you would be perfectly happy to fuck anything I give you...right, pet?”

You’re barely finished with the words before Kevin already takes the unspoken permission, shifting his weight and hips so he can thrust them forward, into your enclosed fist around him. His movements are quick and desperate and oh-so-beautiful to watch.

Still, your grip is intentionally loose around him, hardly enough to give Kevin more than a cursory pressure around his cock that serves to tease more than it does anything else. You feel him press his face into your shoulder and sob softly, something that sounds akin to your name.

“What do you say for this gift?” The power and confidence in your voice is something to be admired, especially since it sends a beautiful shiver down Kevin’s spine.

“Thank you,” the man finally says, desperate and soft. “Thank you thank you  _thank you dearest.”_

“For...?”

“For letting me fuck your hand,” Kevin whimpers, hips moving in quick and short little thrusts, trying to make the most of the space between you, your hand and his cock.  “For making me so  _happy_. You always make me so happy, I love coming home to you every day--I want to make you happy too, dearest, make you so  _ha-happ-py_!”

There’s a hitch in Kevin’s voice when fingers grip harder around the length of him, pressure tight and hard and  _perfect_ around his cock, tight enough that he can feel the beginning licks of pleasure tingle between his thighs. He fucks forward with a desperate passion, the kind you really only get to see when he’s in the throes of pleasure and beyond the care to think clearly.

Truly submissive, truly wrecked, truly needy in a way that nobody else will ever see him--and this experience is all  _yours_  and yours alone.

“You do make me happy,” you confide in him, a whisper in Kevin’s ear that’s many times more calm and measured than he is, practically humping against your hand, a hand that isn’t even moving. “But you know what will make me  _very_  happy, pet?”

“ _Hmmmph?_ ”

The noise is something between a purr and a muffled moan, but you have Kevin’s very  _apt_  attention on your next words.

“I want you to cum simply from fucking my fist,” you feel a thrill in the soft, but powerful command. “Show me how desperate and needy you are, so much that I don’t even need to move it--I want to see you fuck my fist like you’re using a toy on that lovely,  _throbbing_  cock of yours.”

Another moan slips from Kevin’s lips in a heated response, his body shaking and his motions spurred on even faster. His pace quickened, movements sloppy and tense and his arms scrabbling to wrap around your shoulders.

“Thank you!” He shouts, pitch tight and enthusiasm spilling out from him. “Thank you thank you oh--oh gods above yes  _yes yes **thank you**_!”

Kevin thrusts desperate and hard into your enclosed fist, filling the air with wet noises of skin rubbing against skin, precum slick and sticky and a million things else, but all you find yourself focusing on is the delicious sound of Kevin’s moaning.

He’s so loud, you’ve come to find, so loud and energetic in his pleasure--he can’t exactly hide his need when he’s otherwise so vocal about it--and so too is he when the man finally reaches his end.

His thrusts become short and hard, almost to the point where his hips are just twitching against you, grinding hard into your fist and stomach until his mouth opens and teeth press down into your shoulder (but don’t bite, he knows he’ll get in trouble for that).

Kevin practically  _sobs_  as he cums, orgasm taking him so hard that his body clings to you through its entirety. You feel him spill over your hand and onto the front of your clothes, feel his thrusts slow until his seed is smeared over his cock and down his thighs and he is so very, very limp in your arms.

“...Good boy,” you find yourself murmuring, one hand rubbing gently against the small of Kevin’s back. Your words gently coax him to breath, guide his mind from being little more than a messy soup and, eventually, to the point where he is coherent again.

“You have such a way with words, dearest,” Kevin whispers, his lips pressing little kisses across your jaw. He’s leaning against you now, shameless and warm and happy. “I’ll never quite get over how sexy you sound when you’re annoyed at me.”

You roll your eyes at Kevin’s sass returning in full-force.

There's not much of a chance to battle his words though, as his lips ultimately find and press against your own in a hilariously gentle, wonderfully loving kiss.

You’ll take a kiss like this anyday.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request made on my WTNV writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://wtnvwritings.tumblr.com/)


End file.
